


Pledge

by kc_evans



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Letters, Marriage Proposal, Proposing by Letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kc_evans/pseuds/kc_evans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amid a stack of marriage proposals, Inquisitor Trevelyan finds one that is different from all the rest. </p>
<p>Fluffy. Unbeta-ed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pledge

At Evelyn’s bidding, Josephine entered her room carrying an arm full of papers. “Good morning, Your Worship,” she said cheerfully.

Evelyn eyed her warily. Josephine looked far too pleased with herself and the ambassador only smiled widely when she caught the suspicious glance. “Where’s Nell? She normally delivers my correspondence.”

“Nell has requested the day off because of illness,” Josephine said, dropping the stack of papers on Evelyn’s desk.

“Funny, she didn’t seem sick yesterday,” Evelyn muttered, frowning at the large pile. “Why do I have so many letters to answer today?”

Josephine smiled again, though it seemed more sly than sincere. “Ah, some of them are marriage proposals that I thought you might find interesting. But do not worry, Inquisitor. I only included the most serious of requests from the highest caliber of suitors. You only need to write a few sentence in response.”

Evelyn furrowed her brows in confusion. This was rather unusual because she never answered the ridiculous proposals, leaving that in the capable hands of the ambassador. “Josephine, you know Cullen and I - well, we’re together.”

“Yes, for now,” she agreed. “But it has been over a year and there has been no formal agreement between you two. I am merely doing my duty in including these proposals, Inquisitor. If you cannot be swayed by what these men and woman are offering, simply write a polite refusal and the issue will be laid to rest.”

Writing to potential suitors on top of her normal work made Evelyn wish she was anywhere but here. “This is a waste of time,” she said, frustration edging her tone. “I should be closing rifts and chasing down the remaining Venatori, not sitting here trapped at my desk.”

Slanting her a mildly censorious look, Josephine turned to go. “We all must do things we would rather not, Your Worship. And you promised you would pay more attention to these matters now that you no longer have to travel constantly. I will let you get to work. Please come find me in my office once you are done.”

Evelyn waited until Josephine’s delicate footsteps faded from earshot before she heaved a sigh and turned to the paperwork with misgivings. Certainly she didn’t mind doing her share of paperwork, but this seemed excessive. And what was Josephine thinking that she would accept someone else’s proposal? Her heart belonged only to Cullen.

But Josephine’s brush off of their relationship stung deeper than Evelyn cared to admit. She had thought with the war over, Cullen would take the next step and introduce her to his family, or at least suggest that he meet hers. Her subtle hints about visiting Ostwick was met with encouragement to do so, but he had never mentioned him going with her. In fact, the only thing he said was that he would send an honor guard with her.

Taking a deep, steady breath, Evelyn shook her head forcefully to remain focused. Nothing would happen if she sat here and brooded. If indirect comments didn’t work, perhaps more forthright communication was required. After she completed her work, she would find Cullen and suggest they visit their respective families together. After all, their relationship wasn’t a secret. Her mother’s last letter even asked about the ‘Templar boy’ Evelyn was rumored to consort with.

But first, to avoid Josephine’s displeasure, some work. She uncapped the ink bottle and picked up her quill. Picking up the first paper off the top of the pile, Evelyn scanned it. Her lips thinned as she noted it was a marriage proposal from a duke offering not only money and troop support, but also the prestige and protection of his name. The next ten pages were exactly the same, offering various amounts of gold or influence or power they thought might sway her.

It was with vicious pleasure that she responded back to each eleven men and woman with a polite but firm no.

The last one proposal, however, stood out as she turned her attention towards it. The first thing Evelyn noticed was that the paper quality was different. Not quite cheap, but most definitely not expensive vellum that only the rich could afford. The handwriting was painstakingly neat, as if the author had extended much effort to make it legible. The ink blotched in several places where the writer had pressed down too hard, perhaps an indication that he had given serious consideration on each written word.

Evelyn stared at the contents of the proposal for a long time. Unlike the others, this one didn’t list the number of carriages he owned, or how many soldiers he would devote to the Inquisition. He didn’t try to sway her with flowery words, confess an undying love that sounded as sincere as Sera being nice to Vivienne, or the prestige of his name or even boasting of having the largest castle in southern Thedas.

It was simply a confession of feelings, of admiration and respect, and the hope marriage would deepen the connection between them.

At last, a proposal that she deemed worthy because it was from the heart. When Evelyn finally roused herself from her stupor, she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and quickly dashed off the response. With every scratch of the quill touching the sheet, with every symbol askew in her haste, with every word completed, Evelyn felt her heart beat faster. Her breath hitched once, twice, and she had to clear her throat or do something before her eyes clouded with tears. When she finally finished, Evelyn blew on the ink to dry more quickly, frowning when her hands shook as she folded the paper, and melted wax against the overlapping edge. At the proper time, Evelyn carefully pressed both the Inquisition and her personal seal on the letter.

As she got up to ring the bell for a servant to come, she wobbled on legs that suddenly felt weak. Evelyn pulled the bell cord and leaned against the wall, realizing her breath was shallow and fast. It was silly to feel so nervous, but marriage was such a big step. Swallowing hard, she took in a deep breath to steady her pulse, the frantic beat of her heart, the rush of blood pulsing at her temples. When the servant arrived, Evelyn pointed to the sealed correspondence on her desk.

“Deliver that letter to Lady Josephine immediately,” she said. “Instruct the Ambassador to have it delivered to the sender without delay.”

“Yes, Your Worship.” The servant picked up the letter and turned to go before she glanced back. “Not meanin’ disrespect, but are you all right, my lady? You look pale.”

Pale and sweaty, Evelyn knew. She gripped the mantle of her fireplace a little harder to maintain a steady balance on her shaky legs. “I’m fine,” she said in a clipped tone. “You may go now.”

The servant was wise enough to hear the curt dismissal so she simply bowed and disappear down the stairs. Evelyn waited until she heard the faint echo of the door shutting before she collapsed against the wall and slid down to the floor. Alone now, for some inexplicable reason, she began to laugh softly in relief.

*****

Cullen shifted impatiently as Josephine continued to chatter on about Ser Devin’s battle tactics in flushing some Red Templars who had taken refuge near the Kocari Wilds. While he appreciated fellow soldiers helping any way he can, Cullen also preferred hearing the shortened version of any story. The immediate threat to the world was gone, but there was still so much work to do.

Just when he was about to suggest Josephine write him a nice, long, detailed report on it so he could get back to his office, they were interrupted by a servant appearing.

“My lady Josephine, this is from the Inquisitor. She said you’ll know where to send it, and she wishes it done immediately.”

Josephine brightened as she accepted the message. From his vantage point, Cullen noticed the two seals, both familiar to him. One was for official Inquisition business and the other was Evelyn's family emblem she used only for personal matters. Waiting until the servant left, he said curiously, “From the Inquisitor, is it?”

Smiling, Josephine gently traced the seals with her finger. “Indeed.”

Cullen waited for several heartbeats before he said, “Did you need me to leave to open the note, Ambassador?” That didn’t make sense because if it was Inquisition business, he would know about it, but Cullen was willing to use any excuse to escape from more stories about Ser Devin.

“Actually, Commander, this note isn’t for me. I’m simply the intermediary,” Josephine said.

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “Then who’s it for?”

She waited several heartbeats, her smile growing with every passing second, before she handed it to Cullen. “I sent that letter you requested.”

He frowned in confusion. “My what? I didn’t request a letter to be –” And then sudden realization struck and a terror like he had never experienced before froze him. “Maker’s breath, Josephine, that was a joke! Don’t tell me … you did!” Understanding what Josephine had done made Cullen stiffen in horror. His mind began to think of ways to extricate himself out of this situation, this nightmare. How could the normally perceptive ambassador even think about doing this to him?

“It couldn’t have been a joke if you included it in your correspondence pile to me,” Josephine said, her voice sounding reasonable.

“But I didn’t! I wrote it and left it on my desk. Sweet Andraste, it’s still on my desk, isn’t it?” Cullen turned, intending to barrel to his office to see if the letter was still there or if he had indeed mixed it with the daily reports.

“Well, whatever I received, I passed along to the Inquisitor,” Josephine said before he could take two steps out of her office. “And now her response is in your hand.”

Cullen stared down at the folded paper until he managed to actually focused on it. How did things like this always happen to him?

Of course, he knew very well how he ended in this mess. It had started out as a complaint when he saw the number of proposals Evelyn still received on a daily basis. If anything, the number of people seeking a personal alliance with the Inquisitor seemed to increase after defeating Corypheus. Josephine had suggested that Cullen write his own letter of proposal if he was so upset about how many men and women were still after Evelyn.

“After all, it will stop once she’s married,” Josephine had pointed out.

It seemed like a good idea at the time and so Cullen wrote one, late at night when most of his work was finished and he could devote a frivolous hour to the task without guilt. He had sat down and slowly revealed his heart to the woman who made him feel stronger, better about himself, more certain of his dedication. His words were nothing like the fancy promises of devotion and gold, but it was an honest proposal he meant with every fiber of his being.

Cullen had never intended to send it. He and Evelyn hadn’t the opportunity to talk about what to do after saving the world, apart from the confession that they wanted to be with each other. That brief discussion led to their first night together and while it was a memory he cherished, Cullen knew things could have changed since then. Evelyn was a hero, a noble woman with so many opportunities. When facing possible death, it was easy to speak one way. Even with the immediate death threat gone, Cullen didn’t dare discount the possibility that she could just as easily focus on the new prospects opened to her.

He knew, of course, that Evelyn wasn’t one of those capricious nobles who changed their minds as often as the wind changed direction, but a talk about their future plans was severely overdue. Just to make sure they both wanted the same thing.

And now he had to deal with the consequences of what seemed like an innocuous exercise of relieving frustration. “Josephine, that letter was not yours to send,” Cullen said in a low, severe tone.

“As I said, Cullen, it was in the pile of correspondence you sent me. Whether you put it there on purpose or not, I simply assumed you wished me to send it to the Inquisitor. And so I did.” Josephine didn’t sound apologetic in the least. “Perhaps you should open the letter you’re holding.”

Cullen stared at the note. He couldn’t. What if it was a no? What if Evelyn mocked him for his simple words and lack of promises?

As if reading his mind, Josephine said gently, “What if she said yes? Then you’re keeping her waiting.”

He hated that the ambassador sounded so reasonable and logical. But Cullen knew he couldn’t live with the uncertainty forever, not when the answer was literally in his hands. So, before he could change his mind, he pulled out his dagger, slid it under both seals, and broke the hardened wax. He missed sheathing the sharp edge twice because of his shaky fingers before it finally slid home and left both hands free to smooth the note open.

Aware of his quickening breath, Cullen attempted to control the sweat that broke out on his upper lip and forehead. His surcoat suddenly felt too warm and he wanted to shrug out of it. But then his eyes fell on the familiar scribble on the page, as if drawn to the response like a thirsty man to water. Cullen blinked several times, willing the words to come into focus so he could read it.

“Cullen?” Josephine’s voice rang behind him, quiet and clear even as the blood roared through his head and surged downward, leaving a trail of cold from his upper body down. “What did she say?”

He didn’t answer. Cullen simply tossed the note onto Josephine’s desk and strode out.

Surprised at his stiff movements, Josephine watched him stalk away. She then picked up the note and scanned it carefully, her eyes catching every blotch of ink Evelyn spilled as she wrote, the frantic, crooked line of the short response. As she reread the letter three more times, a triumphant smile dawned on her lips. Josephine set the message aside, knowing it would serve as a fond memento to look back on in the future, and turned her attention back to work.

  


* * *

  


_Ser Cullen,_

_It is with deep honor that I accept your troth and pledge mine to you in return._

_Ever yours,  
Evelyn Trevelyan_


End file.
